


Only an Echo

by stardropdream



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Double Penetration, Established Relationship, Foursome - M/M/M/M, M/M, Minor Keith/Keith, Minor Shiro/Shiro, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Rimming, Season 8 Doesn't Exist, Season/Series 02, Spitroasting, Time Travel, Top Keith (Voltron), Top Shiro (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:28:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21552256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: Shiro should have guessed that things were about to get weird when a wormhole opens up in his bedroom and out step the future versions of Shiro and Keith.“Right,” the older Keith says, smiling a little. “Well. There’s no easy way to explain it.”“We’re—” the other Shiro begins.“— here to fuck you,” the other Keith cuts off.“Not quite how I’d phrase it, baby.”Or: Recently married Shiro and Keith decide that the best wedding present they can give each other is "let's go back in time and fuck our past selves." So they do.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 99
Kudos: 442





	Only an Echo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [valkyriepilot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/valkyriepilot/gifts).



> Fic request from [Jill](https://twitter.com/EphemeraBlossom), who asked for future sheith going back in time to dick down past sheith. I mean. *gestures to the summary and tags* You see what we're working with here. 
> 
> Huge thank you to [Ils](https://twitter.com/justsayins) and [Viper](https://twitter.com/sheithpocalypse) who read this over for me! ♥

When a wormhole opens right in his bedroom, Shiro suspects his day’s about to get strange. Not just because said wormhole interrupts a very thorough and enthusiastic make-out session with Keith, but because the person who steps out of the wormhole is, as far as Shiro can tell, an older version of himself. 

It’s a little odd to watch someone who Shiro _knows_ is himself, can tell, objectively, that it’s himself— but is different enough that he can’t quite wrap his head around it. Silver hair, different arm, broader, older. Shiro blinks over at his other self, not reacting. 

Keith, though, goes a little bug-eyed, sitting up in Shiro’s bed and quickly adjusting his shirt and shoving his hair away from his face as he stares straight at this new version of Shiro. He’d been adorably pink-faced when kissing Shiro earlier, but now he looks as red as a tomato. 

This new Shiro doesn’t say anything at first. He just casts a short smile Keith’s way, and then turns to hold his hand out to the wormhole. A moment later, a slim, delicate hand peeks through and catches Shiro’s— and then this other Shiro ushers another Keith through the wormhole. 

As soon as Keith touches the ground, the wormhole snicks shut behind him, leaving Shiro’s room in a flurry of disarray, everything knocked off surfaces and scattered across the floor from the force of time-space ripping open. 

In the wake of this sudden arrival, Shiro admittedly doesn’t know what to do. 

“Aww, look at them,” the older Keith coos into the other Shiro’s ear, although certainly loud enough for both Shiro and Keith to hear. The older Keith’s tone is sultry enough to turn Shiro’s ears pink. 

Shiro can’t stop staring at them— or, perhaps, at this Keith. They make a nice pair, Shiro thinks, privately. Shiro has no idea what’s happened to himself in the future to make all his hair go white, why his Galra arm is replaced, instead, with something silver and massive. It’s a little difficult for him to look at himself— especially with Keith standing right there.

Keith, with those same wicked eyes and that same wicked smile. His hair’s longer now, coiled into a loose, messy braid. His face is more angular, his cheek cut with a deep scar that folds at a dimple when he smiles. 

This Keith whispers, conspiratorially into the other Shiro’s ear, “I bet they only just started dating.” He turns to look at them both and asks, “Right?” 

Shiro blushes deeper. It’s true that his and Keith’s relationship is still relatively new, and it’s amazing to him that it can be obvious just by a look. Maybe there’s something about them that betrays all the jitters Shiro still feels, all the worry that he’s somehow doing something wrong by Keith. 

“Yeah,” Keith speaks up beside Shiro, unable to tear his eyes away from the other Shiro. That, too, makes Shiro blush deeper— unsure if he should be jealous of the obvious way Keith’s _staring_ at another, older version of himself. Keith’s always been obvious and Shiro’s always loved that about him, at least. 

Shiro opens his mouth to speak, but then the other Keith breaks away from the other Shiro and approaches. He walks into Shiro’s space and with a shock Shiro realizes that he’s _letting_ him. Maybe he and Keith should be on guard. Maybe he and Keith shouldn’t instinctively trust possible intruders and imposters who just magically appear in their bedroom after circumnavigating the Castle’s defenses. 

But Shiro does trust this Keith. Instinctively. As this Keith approaches, Shiro knows he’s safe. 

The older Keith merely cups Shiro’s face once he’s close enough, thumbs brushing absently over his cheekbones with delicate, gentle precision. 

“Look at you,” this Keith whispers, voice entirely too soft, his eyes brimming over with a love that steals away Shiro’s breath— his Keith has always worn his heart on his sleeve, has always been so demonstrative and open. But this feels different. This is an openness motivated by a quiet confidence, not fear of losing everything all over again. Less _live every day like it’s your last_ desperation. 

“Um,” Shiro says. 

That seems to make this Keith laugh, mirth dancing in his eyes. “I forgot just how young you used to look.” 

Shiro dares a glance over at the other version of himself. He’s not that much older than Shiro, he thinks, aside from the white hair. He glances back up at this Keith to find his expression calm and serene, entirely too gentle. 

“We should probably explain why we’re here,” the other Shiro calls and, regretfully, this Keith pulls away from Shiro. Shiro misses his touch instantly and then feels a spike of guilt. He looks over at _his_ boyfriend. 

But Keith hasn’t seemed to notice what’s going on. His eyes are still on the other Shiro, his face entirely red. 

“Right,” the older Keith says, smiling a little. “Well. There’s no easy way to explain it.” 

“We’re—” the other Shiro begins.

“— here to fuck you,” the other Keith cuts off. 

“Not quite how I’d phrase it, baby.” 

Shiro, meanwhile, feels like he’s having a heart attack over this Keith’s announcement. He stares over at his Keith with wide eyes, watching the flush heat up over Keith’s entire face in turn. Keith’s fingertips twist up tight in the blanket, eyes wide. 

Shiro tries to summon words. “What do you m—” 

“Well,” the other Keith says with a shrug. “We’re you. We know this is what you want.” 

“I’m n—” Shiro begins. 

“How?” Keith asks instead, sitting up a little straighter beside Shiro. He looks very eager as he stares at the other Shiro. 

Maybe Shiro’s staring a little too long at the other Keith, too. So he can’t really be jealous— it’s another version of himself, after all. He should probably be more uneasy about this, shouldn’t he? 

The older Keith shrugs, which is both unfairly casual and unfairly beautiful. “Think of it as a honeymoon gift, maybe?” 

Shiro feels his blush renew in full force, heat running all the way up to his ears. His eyes flicker towards Keith’s hands, delicate and slack at his sides— and spots the glinting gold ring. The matching one on an older Shiro’s finger, too. 

“Oh.” 

Shiro must be making a ridiculous face, something splintering and overwhelmed. He watches the older Keith spot it and watches his expression melt in turn. The older Keith steps towards Shiro again, cupping his face with one hand, the other threading back into his hair, brushing it lovingly away from his face.

“Sweetheart,” this Keith coos, and that’s nearly as devastating as hearing an older version of himself call Keith _baby_. “You don’t have to pretend with us.” 

Shiro peeks at Keith, too, searching his boyfriend’s face for any sign of betrayal or disgust. But Keith seems a little overwhelmed himself, watching the way an older version of himself touches Shiro. He looks curious, more than anything else, his eyes going dark the way they always do just before he goads Shiro into kissing him. 

“I know what you want,” the older Keith whispers, hot and promising. His smile is that same wicked curve, sharp as a dagger and stabbing straight into Shiro’s gut. “Why do you think we’re both here?” 

Shiro gulps down, unsure if he should protest or not, but then his Keith speaks up beside him, “You really know what we want?” 

“Yeah,” the other Shiro says, sitting down on the other side of Keith now, his big metal hand falling to rest on Keith’s knee. Shiro startles even as the other Keith strokes his fingers along his jaw. The other Shiro smiles at Keith, thumb swiping absently over Keith’s kneecap. “You’ve thought about this before, right?” His voice drops, deep, low, and husky when he tells Keith, “You don’t need to just imagine it if you don’t want, baby.” 

Shiro watches Keith shiver, reacting to those words, to the sound of the other him’s voice. Shiro thinks that, objectively, he can understand the appeal of it— how deep and low his voice sounds. He wonders if that’s how he sounds when he’s teasing Keith, too. 

Keith looks at Shiro and gives a little shrug. He goes for casual, but Shiro can see the desire burning in Keith’s eyes. Shiro’s sure it must be mirrored in his own expression, too. He can’t deny it’s something he’s thought of before— what Keith would look like older, what it’d feel like to wake up beside Keith every day for the rest of his life. 

Their relationship is still relatively new. It felt like too much to admit, especially amid a universal war against Zarkon. 

Shiro can’t deny it, though— he’s thought about this, or something like this before. Maybe not quite so literally as watching Keith get fucked by a future version of himself, but certainly wondered at what they’d look like together, what it’d feel like to have more of Keith inside him. 

Shiro’s Keith laughs. He must see the truth in Shiro’s eyes. His answer is to turn towards the older Shiro, brazen and daring, so beautiful it’s nearly suffocating, and grab the older Shiro by the front of his shirt and yanks him down, slamming his mouth against his. 

Beside him, the older Keith makes a soft hum of approval, laughing. “That’s right.” 

Shiro, meanwhile, feels himself trembling just from that— from watching Keith kiss another Shiro with such ferocity and passion. He can _tell_ what the kiss would feel like because it’s so much like how Keith always kisses: bold and unrestrained. He watches himself kiss Keith, too, and wonders at that— at how peaceful and happy he looks kissing Keith, his lips hinting a smile even as Keith bites at his bottom lip. The fan of his eyelashes across his cheek, the tiniest tilt of his head. Keith licks into his mouth and lets out a loose groan, pressing ever closer. Wild and fierce, with Shiro there to meet his fire— is it always like that? 

And then the older Keith beside him touches Shiro’s cheek and guides him back to look at him, his smile gentle. “My turn, sweetheart.” 

“Keith,” Shiro whispers, and that just makes this Keith grin, dimpling and sweet, and lean in to kiss Shiro with that same ferocity he just witnessed in the younger Keith. 

This Keith is taller, a little wider, a little bulkier than his Keith. But he still fits so nicely against Shiro as he swings his leg up and straddles Shiro’s lap, draping his arms over Shiro’s shoulders and laying worship to his mouth. 

Shiro gives a little groan of surprise, which just fuels Keith onward to kiss him deeper, licking into his mouth and then sucking on his tongue. Shiro shivers when Keith drags his fingers through the soft buzz of his undercut, cradling the back of his head. Keith is relentless, kissing him deep and thorough. 

Shiro hesitates, and then slides his hands up Keith’s waist— still so small, still so slim beneath his palms. Keith keens approvingly into his mouth and Shiro can’t even be embarrassed that this situation and that sound alone gets him hard and aching in his pants. 

When Shiro draws away from the kiss, he glances over towards his Keith— and finds him watching them both with dark eyes. The moment their eyes lock, his boyfriend gives a tiny grunt, cups Shiro’s chin, and jerks him forward to kiss him in turn, possessive and determined. 

The other Keith chuckles, low and throaty. “Don’t worry,” he tells his younger self, once Shiro and Keith break their kiss, “I already have my own.” 

Keith blushes but says nothing, his hand shifting back to possessively cup the back of Shiro’s neck. Shiro likes the feeling of it, of being held and protected and coveted. He loves that determined flex of Keith’s jaw— his eyes glittering with desire. No anger or hurt there, he hopes— just staking his claim. 

Still, the older Keith’s sitting in his lap and when he wriggles his hips, his eyes spark, gazing at his younger self. There’s something smug in his expression as he grinds his hips down, not stopping until Shiro’s breath hitches, feeling the swell of his cock pressing into the cleft of Keith’s ass. 

Beside him, Keith’s eyes narrow. The older Keith in Shiro’s lap just grins and laughs, not unkindly. 

“It’s okay,” the older Keith murmurs. “I know what you need.” 

He crawls out of Shiro’s lap and towards his other self, reaching for Keith. Keith blinks once but doesn’t protest. They both glance over at Shiro, as if assessing his reaction. The older Keith looks sure of himself, like he knows what the image alone does to Shiro. The younger Keith studies his boyfriend’s face carefully, looking for any hint of disgust. 

And, well, Keith’s not going to find anything like that. Far from it. 

The older Keith grins, turns, and pulls the younger Keith up towards him— pressing a tentative kiss against his mouth. Shiro watches his Keith suck in a deep breath, eyes widening. He glances back at Shiro one last time before he gives himself to it, closing his eyes and lips parting to the other Keith. 

They kiss like that and Shiro can’t tear his eyes away. Keith makes a soft whimpering sound as the older Keith sweeps his tongue into his mouth, his fingers carding through Keith’s short hair, cradling his head and tipping him back to lie sprawled out on Shiro’s bed. 

Shiro can’t stop staring. He watches as the two Keiths kiss, as one strips down the other— tugging off the younger Keith’s clothes with practiced ease. 

“You want my husband to fuck you, don’t you?” Keith whispers against the younger Keith’s lips. 

Keith groans, nodding his head. “Y- yeah. _Yes._ ” 

Shiro’s aware of his older self watching all of this, making himself quiet and still as the Keiths perform for Shiro. But, finally, Shiro flicks his eyes over to study himself, unable to resist studying what he’ll see in his face. 

“I’ll fuck you,” the older Shiro says to Keith, dark and deep and promising. He presses his hand down against Keith’s chest when he makes an eager sound. This Shiro’s smile is devastating. “But you have to behave, baby.” 

Keith keens, back arching— a command that he’s always eager to follow and disobey. Shiro knows that well, knows what an order like that does to Keith. And, it seems, it’s still just as true in the future. 

“Behave, baby,” the other Shiro whispers, leaning down to kiss the younger Keith’s forehead, smoothing his hair away. “And I’ll fuck you good.” 

“Shiro,” Keith whispers, breath hitching. He lifts his hips, where his cock rests against his stomach, ruddy and pretty and eager to be touched. 

“And you,” Shiro murmurs, cupping his husband’s face and pressing a short kiss to his mouth. “Don’t tease him so much. You know how you are.” 

The older Keith snorts, looking pleased, and kisses his Shiro back hungrily. If it was mesmerizing to watch his older self kiss Keith, it’s another thing entirely to watch the two older versions of themselves kiss— the practiced ease of it, the gentle curve of their smiles. When they break the kiss, they hold each other’s gazes for a moment, a silent conversation passing between them. Understanding without words. When they look away from each other, the older Keith winks at Shiro. 

“Make sure you watch closely, sweetheart,” the older Keith tells him and then ducks down, lifting his younger self’s legs, hands hooked behind his knees. 

It’s almost strange to watch two Keiths on the bed, watching the Keith he’s always known lying on his back and an older version of himself hovering above him. Shiro almost envies their ability to sink into one another like this. 

He watches an older Keith take Keith’s cock into his mouth, sucking with only licks and soft lips, teasing him. Keith gives a muffled shout and rocks his hips up into the waiting mouth. 

The older Shiro strokes his hand over Keith’s chest, soothing him, murmuring praise. 

And Shiro feels a thrill zing through him. He crawls over to Keith’s side, too, reaching to tangle his fingers in his hair, turning his face so he’ll look at him. 

“You’re doing so good already,” he tells Keith in a low murmur. 

“Shiro,” Keith whines, staring up at him as he rocks his hips up, pumping his cock into another Keith’s mouth. His legs are held up tight by this Keith, but they tremble, his toes curling against the sensations of it all. 

“Does it feel good?” Shiro murmurs, blushing again— it’s not quite like having an audience, since it’s just other versions of himself, but he’s still aware that they’re listening as he speaks with Keith. He’s not used to the performance of it. He’s too used to it only ever being _Keith._ He rubs his thumb against Keith’s scalp, petting him. “Tell me— tell us what you want.” 

Keith groans, body bowing. He’s about to speak but then the other Keith pulls off Keith’s dick and, instead, ducks down, licking at his hole instead. Keith startles, his entire body shuddering with a loud gasp that cuts off into a moan. 

“Better get the lube,” the older Keith tells his husband, then turning to wink at Shiro. He pats Keith’s thigh with a smile. “Well. You know that part already, I’m sure.” 

Shiro blushes, and watches his older self send that strange, floating arm to where Shiro keeps the lube— finding it without instruction or hesitation. But, then again, this was once the other Shiro’s room, too. 

Shiro watches as if in a daze as the older Keith licks between Keith’s legs, making Keith’s hole soppy with just his tongue, coaxing and teasing him. He lifts one hand up to his husband. Shiro watches as his older self squirts lube onto Keith’s fingers, slicking them up for him. He strokes Keith’s fingers like a cock, his hand tightened into a fist as he strokes over him, slicking him up. 

“So how do you think they’ll want it first?” the older Keith asks the older Shiro, loud and teasing and clearly meant for Shiro and Keith to hear. He nibbles at Keith’s thigh with a thoughtful hum, “Think Keith will want you to fuck him first? Or want to watch me fuck Shiro?” 

“Hmm,” the other Shiro hums, clearly teasing, too, his smile warm and praising. “Maybe Shiro will want you inside him, but his mouth on Keith.” 

Shiro barely bites back his groan. 

The other Shiro seems to know as much, his expression far too knowing. “Or,” he says, eyes on Shiro now, “do you think Keith can take us both at once?” 

His voice is a conspiratorial murmur, which is just a little rude considering Shiro can hardly lie to _himself._

The thought seems overly tempting to Keith, too, who gives a low cry at the thought of it. The older Shiro shushes him gently, soothing his hand over Keith’s chest. 

“We have time for all of it,” the older Shiro tells Keith, his expression just a touch moony— something soft and open and vulnerable in his gaze as he stares down at the younger version of his husband. 

That, too, nearly steals Shiro’s breath. He feels himself flush in turn, seeing his own face softened with love like that. 

_Do I always look at him like that?_ he wonders, watching another version of him stare down at Keith like he’s the entire world. 

He knows he loves Keith. He loves Keith more than anything else in the universe— but it’s strange to actually _see_ that love radiating off him, observing it like a distant party. 

“Think he really likes that idea, baby,” the older Shiro tells the older Keith. 

“Well,” that Keith says wickedly, eyes gleaming, his smile crinkling up the scar on his cheek. “I know what I like, right?”

“Ha, fuck,” the Keith beneath him snorts, blushing and then flashing that same wicked grin. He looks so young beneath the other Keith, but there’s a confidence about him that sets Shiro’s heart at ease. 

Shiro can’t help but lean down and kiss Keith like that. And, of course, Keith is there to meet him— he hums into Shiro’s mouth luxuriously, unhurried and blissed out, sucking on Shiro’s bottom lip and letting his teeth prick at the swell of it. 

Shiro feels Keith give a small shudder as his older self starts fingering him open, alternating between tongue and fingers, teasing at him. It’s blissful to watch the change come over Keith’s face, once they break the kiss. 

“Get naked, too,” Keith growls, pawing at Shiro. “Want to see you.” 

And Shiro’s never been one to disobey a direct command from his boyfriend. He grins, delirious and heartful and, well, definitely horny. He shrugs out of his clothes as quickly as he can, squirming out of his tight-fitting pants while trying to keep his eyes on everything happening. 

Keith lies out on his back, letting the older version of himself fuck into him. The movement seems perfunctory— Keith knows what Keith wants, after all, and Shiro knows from experience that Keith tends to get impatient with prep, never wanting to take as long as Shiro insists. 

The older Keith is straightforward with it, stretching Keith open and then backing off with a grin. 

“Good enough,” he tells the other Shiro. 

The other Shiro frowns, looks like he’s going to voice the protest that Shiro wants to say. But the other Keith just lifts his hand and pats his husband’s cheek, kissing the corner of his mouth. 

“Imagine how tight he’ll be,” the other Keith whispers. “You know you like that. Come on. Look at how small I look.” 

Keith grumbles on the bed, blushing at being called _small._ Shiro reaches out without thinking, smoothing his hand down Keith’s chest and fisting his cock, stroking him gently. That makes Keith sigh, back arching as he lifts his hips off the bed. 

Keith turns his head and kisses Shiro, his hands reaching to cup his face and keep him close. 

Shiro pulls back only when he senses movement, watching the older Keith step out from between Keith’s spread legs and pulling off his clothes. It’s damn arresting to watch him strip— somehow both sensual and efficient at once. Without his clothes, Shiro can really see the difference in this Keith— how he’s broadened with age, his muscles defined. Still willowy and lean, with a trim waist and wild hair. There are new scars that Shiro doesn’t recognize, and some he does— the scar Keith received at his Blade Trial still slashes across his shoulder, prominent and only a little more faded than how it slashes across the younger Keith’s shoulder now. 

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, sweetheart,” Keith promises, smiling sweetly at Shiro— and going to him. 

Shiro scoots back on the bed, making space, but this Keith merely follows after him, crawling up onto the bed. It’s a wet dream all its own, watching the way his hair spills messy from his braid and slips off his shoulder to frame his face. His eyes are so dark, so molten and filled with desire as he reaches for Shiro, moving to straddle his lap again. 

He hums happily as he takes Shiro’s cock in hand, squeezing and stroking him. His hand is nimble and sure, not even pausing, not even needing to explore. He thumbs at the slit of Shiro’s cock and squeezes at the base, twisting his hand in that way that always, always makes Shiro gasp and tilt his head back. 

“That’s right,” Keith whispers, kissing the bottom of his chin. “So good, sweetheart. So good.” 

“Keith,” Shiro groans as Keith ducks his head, kissing and biting at his neck. It makes Shiro shudder, pulsing his hips up to fuck into Keith’s hand, the tight circle of his fist. 

And then those same, slick fingers that pressed inside Keith tease at him, too. Shiro gasps, rocking his hips up, lifting enough off the bed that the Keith in his lap can squirm fingers up inside him, stretching him open. 

“Should I take my time?” Keith whispers against his neck, nuzzling. “Or?” 

Shiro usually loves to take his time with Keith. He loves using his fingers to fuck into him slowly, carefully, for so long that Keith starts cursing him out. Shiro usually keeps going even once Keith is thrashing on the bed, demanding that Shiro hurry up _and just fuck him_. 

But when it comes to Keith fucking _him_? Shiro loves to feel the stretch of it, loves to feel how powerful Keith is. Sometimes, it’s remarkable just how much smaller Keith feels against Shiro, and yet how powerful he is. Keith could throw him across the room and Shiro would thank him for it. Shiro loves that power. He wants it fast with Keith— wants to feel every inch of him, wants to stretch open for him around his cock. 

“I want to feel you,” he says, which isn’t quite an answer but Keith seems to know anyway, pleased, his eyes warm. 

“Good boy,” Keith purrs in his ear and it makes Shiro shudder. He rocks up hard into Keith’s hand, then down against the fingers pressing inside him, spreading him open. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you fuck yourself later, too,” Keith teases, thrusting his fingers in and out of Shiro, tugging at his rim. “Then you could know firsthand just how good your dick feels.” 

“Fuck!” Shiro gasps and lets Keith shove him down onto his back so he’s sprawled out. He turns his head and finds the younger Keith laid out similarly. 

His boyfriend smiles at him when their eyes meet and he lifts his hand, taking Shiro’s. Their fingers thread together and Keith grins, flushed and so, so pretty. He already looks fucked out, but as far as Shiro can tell, the older Shiro is still only knelt between Keith’s spread legs, fingering him open with a quiet intensity, making sure it’s good and thorough. 

_Good,_ Shiro thinks to himself. At least he still has some class when he’s older. 

Keith keens when the older Shiro hits a particularly good spot, body shivering even as his eyes stay focused on Shiro. His voice sounding thoroughly husked out, he asks, “Feeling good?” 

“Yeah,” Shiro says. “You?” 

Keith squeezes his hand. “Perfect, Shiro.” 

In so many ways, it feels like a dream. Shiro gets to watch the love of his life gasp for breath, fucked open by another version of himself, someone who knows to crook his fingers in just the right way to find Keith’s prostate. And then Shiro can turn his head and gaze up at another Keith, at that same love of his life as he runs his hand reverently up and down Shiro’s thigh, petting him as he slides the pretty head of his cock up against Shiro’s hole but not yet entering. 

He’s taking less deliberate, intensely patient care than Shiro is with Keith, but that’s just how Shiro likes it. Keith’s expression is soft and open and Shiro can already guess at what Keith will say— because it’s what his Keith always says, too. 

“Tell me if you need me to slow down,” the older Keith says.

Shiro can’t help his soft laugh. His answer is the same as it always is, in turn: “What if I beg you to keep going instead?” 

Keith grins— and it seems he’s familiar enough with the response. Like he’d been expecting it in the first place. He crawls up the length of Shiro’s body and dips down, pressing a reverent, sweet kiss to Shiro’s parted lips. 

“Okay, handsome,” Keith whispers against his mouth. He rolls his hips forward, his cock sliding against Shiro’s hole again, more promising this time. “Going to take care of you now.” 

Shiro blushes at the endearment, his breath hitching in his chest— he’s never actually heard it before, but Keith says it with such simplicity that it’s not possible it’s the first time for him. 

And then Keith pushes in and Shiro forgets how to think. He lets out a pleased moan. He knows this feeling well, always loves the way Keith holds himself steady, the way he fits inside Shiro like he was always made to be there. This is no different. Keith inches inside Shiro, pressing in slow pulses of his hips and Shiro feels spread open. 

Shiro closes his eyes, luxuriating in the feeling, squeezing his Keith’s hand where they’re still locked together. He arches his back, letting the pleasure roll through him as the older Keith slides home. 

“Ah,” Shiro moans, utterly breathless. “Fuck, Keith.” 

“Yeah, sweetheart,” the older Keith encourages, his hands soothing along Shiro’s sides, coaxing him to relax. Keith eases in and doesn’t stop until he’s fully sheathed inside Shiro, buried up to the root. 

When Shiro blinks his eyes open to look up at him, the older Keith looks triumphant, his hair in disarray and clinging sweaty to his forehead. His eyes are so dark. 

“What do you think?” Keith asks him, his deep, intense attention pressing down just on Shiro.

Shiro breathes out, squirming his hips just to feel Keith inside him. “You always feel good, Keith.” 

Keith grins and if Shiro didn’t know any better, he’d swear that Keith’s teeth hint at fangs. He turns his head before Shiro can examine it too closely, looking to his husband. 

“Enjoying the view?” Keith asks, his eyes on the older Shiro as he rolls his hips back and then fucks into Shiro in one smooth thrust. 

The older Shiro grins as he watches them both— and as Shiro studies him, he realizes that his other self must have been watching them the whole time. He parts his legs wider for Keith as Keith starts thrusting into him. 

“You know I always enjoy how you look,” Shiro’s older self says. Shiro’s barely listening, though, too busy moaning as he rocks his hips down to meet Keith. 

He turns his head, watching his other self with a strange sort of fascination. The other Shiro finally pulls his fingers out from inside Keith. Keith gives a pleased little whimper, body trembling and his free hand reaching up to grasp at him. Shiro watches how easily the other Shiro catches Keith’s hand, tangling their fingers together much like Shiro always does. 

It looks strange, to see how small Keith’s hand looks, engulfed in that massive metal hand. But the other Shiro’s expression is that same gentle, loving look that Shiro knows he must mirror whenever he looks at Keith. The older Shiro stares down at Keith like he’s precious, like he’s the entire universe— because he _is_. 

Even if he’s looking at himself, it feels far too intimate, far too vulnerable. 

Shiro finds himself unable to look away, though, as the other Shiro effortlessly picks Keith up from the bed, bringing him into his lap. Shiro watches like some sort of strange out-of-body experience as another version of himself fists his cock the same way Shiro does. Shiro watches the older Shiro guide the cockhead to press against Keith’s hole, the same way Shiro always does. 

The other Shiro holds Keith effortlessly in his lap, cradling Keith with one hand cupping his ass and pulling him open, maneuvering Keith so that Shiro can _see_. 

“Let’s give your man a show, huh, baby?” he hears his other self whisper in Keith’s ear. Keith cries out softly and nods his head, widening his legs so Shiro can see the obscene arch of his back, the spread of his body as he drops one hand and pulls himself open for the other Shiro, his hand on one cheek while the other Shiro pulls the other aside, exposing him. 

And Shiro watches as the other Shiro pushes his cock inside of Keith— how good Keith looks as he cries out, arching, sinking down onto the cock. It shouldn’t be possible— Shiro knows he’s big, he always marvels at the way Keith takes him, and it’s completely different now to _see_. 

The other Shiro soothes Keith as Keith sinks down, his mouth pressed to his ear and, undoubtedly, whispering praises. He flicks his eyes over Keith’s shoulder to lock eyes with Shiro, his smile knowing as he digs his fingers into Keith’s ass and puts Keith on display.

Shiro watches the cock disappear inside of Keith, only finds himself breathing once Keith’s fully sunk onto it, shuddering around that new feeling of fullness.

“Fuck,” Keith says, with deep feeling. 

Above Shiro, the other Keith’s gone still, also watching the display. His expression seems oddly fond, considering the lewdness of their angle. But his eyes dart between his younger self and his husband, drinking it all in. 

Shiro feels his heart leap when his older self turns his head and meets the older Keith’s gaze, too. Shiro can’t put the way they look at each other into words— he thinks it must be like how he and Keith look at each other, but different. Evolved. Years and years of the two of them looking at each other and finding each other. They look at each other like it’s been an eternity together, but not nearly long enough. 

Shiro wants to cry. It rolls through him, sudden and unspoken. 

He hooks his leg around the other Keith’s hips. Keith smiles, peering at him out of the corner of his eye but unwilling to look away from his husband. He pets his hand over Shiro’s chest, soothingly, and then rocks his hips forward. He resumes his pace, fucking into Shiro. 

And, admittedly, there’s something so good about Keith fucking him like this but not looking at him. Shiro starts panting, barely biting back a low whine when Keith continues to ignore him, his smile sweet and tender and only for his husband. 

Shiro turns his head to watch the other Shiro in turn. He hasn’t looked away from Keith, either, his expression warm and smile playful.

Both hands cup the younger Keith’s ass now, pulling him up and dragging him back down, letting him bob on his cock. Keith’s making those familiar, wonderfully obscene noises that Shiro _loves_ , his head thrown back and his lips parted as he moans. 

“Look at you,” the other Shiro murmurs, his smile so impossibly fond as he turns, finally, to watch Keith wriggle on his cock. “You always take me so well, baby.” 

There’s a hand on Shiro’s cheek and it turns his face, guiding him back to look at the other Keith, his smile similarly kind. 

“I’ll feel neglected if you start to ignore me,” Keith teases, as if he hadn’t just done the same thing to Shiro. 

But Shiro startles anyway, his hands flexing and reaching for Keith before he can even think of it. It just makes Keith chuckle and duck his head, his dark hair spilling over his shoulders. 

“I was teasing,” he assures Shiro, sliding his hands up Shiro’s arms and leaning in to press a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “You’re always so sweet.” 

Beside him, Shiro hears his Keith give a low moan and when Shiro’s eyes skirt towards him, he watches the older him fuck into Keith, watches Keith’s legs fall open, his chest heave with breath. He looks beautiful like that, held up and open, the other Shiro’s hand big and gentle against his ribs, cupping his side and guiding him into that arch. 

And then Shiro feels the other Keith fuck into him and hit his prostate, and Shiro gives a sharp cry of pleasure, shuddering and reaching up to grasp tightly to Keith’s shoulders.

Keith’s grinning down at him when Shiro opens his eyes again, hovering above him. His hair spills out over his shoulders, some of the longer pieces pooling on Shiro’s chest. 

“God, you feel so good,” Keith whispers. “You look so good.” 

“Keith,” Shiro whines as Keith starts a brutal pace— not quite rough, but far from gentle. The bed shakes beneath Shiro’s body as Keith fucks into him. Shiro rises to meet him, rolling his hips down and giving a low whimper when Keith touches his cock, stroking in time to his punishing thrusts. 

“Mmm,” Keith hums, sweetly, lifting a hand to stroke over Shiro’s face, skimming his jaw and pressing at his bottom lip. “Shiro…” he whispers, and just hearing his name makes Shiro shiver. “Beautiful, perfect Shiro.” 

“God,” Shiro laughs, feeling squirmy on the inside. He jerks his face away, squeezing his eyes shut. It’s pathetic that the words alone are enough to make him want to cry. 

Keith pets his hair from his face, leaning down to kiss his temple, then his cheek, pausing in his thrusts to press against him chest to chest. 

“Has the younger me said it to you yet?” Keith asks him, soft and earnest. It doesn’t take long for Shiro to realize what he means by _it._

He nods. “Yeah.” 

Keith nods too, expression softening. “Good. I didn’t want you to have to hear it from me first… then I really would be jealous of myself.” He strokes his fingertips over Shiro’s cheek and murmurs: “I love you so much, Shiro. You’re _perfect._ ” 

Keith punctuates the words with a thrust of his hips and Shiro sucks in a sharp breath that he lets out in a hitching moan. “Fuck— you’re already fucking me. You don’t have to flatter me.” 

“It’s the truth,” Keith says simply. “And trust me, I _will_ say it as many times as I need to.” 

“I don’t doubt it,” Shiro admits quietly. Keith’s always been stubborn. Shiro’s always loved that about him. Shiro sucks in a deep breath and looks back up at Keith. “Please,” he begs. “Just fuck me.” 

Keith nods his head, his expression still soft— but determined as he fucks into Shiro in earnest, his pace punishing and brutal. His Keith has surprising stamina— a consequence of being Galra, Shiro suspects— and it seems his older self is no different.

By the time Shiro feels himself coming, Keith’s hardly paused in his pace, still fucking into Shiro with enthusiastic moans hitching up in volume. 

Shiro feels his orgasm building inside him. He pants out, body growing taut as a bow. Keith’s hand wraps around his cock, coaxing him over that edge. Shiro groans weakly, painting his stomach until he’s shiny with his come. 

Keith marvels at him, slowing his pace and just watching Shiro shudder through his release, his hand squeezing and milking his cock. 

“Ha,” the other Shiro breathes beside them, still fucking into Keith— who’s boneless and pliant in his arms, leaning heavily against his shoulder and whimpering as Shiro moves. “Should have guessed I’d come first.” 

“Who can blame you when I look so good?” Keith teases with a wicked smile. He pushes his hair back over his shoulders before he reaches for Shiro, cupping his face. “Hey, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Still with me?” 

“Yeah,” Shiro whispers, breathless and blissed out. He doesn’t want to let go of Keith, his legs tight around his slim waist. “Are— will you come inside me?” 

“Whatever you want,” Keith vows, hand pressing on Shiro’s chest as he resumes fucking into him.

It takes only a few strokes. Shiro can feel when Keith gets close— how similar it is to when his Keith comes inside him, too. First Keith’s hips give a shudder and then he tenses up, ducking his head with a whiny groan. 

And then he comes inside Shiro with one solid thrust, pressing inside him up to the hilt and flooding Shiro with warmth. Shiro sighs, his dick giving a little twitch where it rests, soft, against his stomach and Shiro rolls his hips down, feeling just on the edge of oversensitive now that he’s come, but wanting to milk Keith dry, to be filled up with him. 

“If you get hard in time,” Keith murmurs, grinning down at him. “You can fuck your Keith, too. Think he’d like it?” 

“Fuck,” Shiro groans. He has a slower recovery period than Keith does, but he’s damned willing to try— the idea of fucking Keith alongside his other self is overwhelming. 

And it sounds like Keith likes the idea, too. He sobs out a low moan from his position on the other Shiro’s cock, tilting his head to look at Shiro pleadingly over his shoulder.

“Shiro,” he moans. 

“Yeah, baby,” Shiro calls back to him, already pushing up onto his elbows. 

The other Keith gives a perfunctory swipe of his hand over Shiro’s stomach, cleaning him off, and slips out of him with the impossible care he always does. Shiro feels bereft in Keith’s absence, but Keith softens the blow by leaning down to kiss him.

It’s decadent. Shiro thinks that Keith must be trying to help him get hard again so he can fuck his Keith just from the kiss alone— slow, sensual, and dirty. Shiro gives a low, pleased hum as Keith curls his fingers around Shiro’s cock, stroking him gently. He kisses him sweetly, licking into Shiro’s mouth and sucking on his bottom lip. He nibbles, teasing him with the softest whisper of his fangs, then drags Shiro’s tongue into his mouth. Shiro gives a low groan, responding, trying to match every move that Keith makes. 

“Mm,” the other Keith hums when he breaks the kiss, brushing his nose against Shiro’s, painfully teasing and sweet compared to the obscene way he strokes Shiro’s cock. “There we go.” He gives Shiro’s cock, plumped up against his palm, one final squeeze before releasing him. “Now… "fuck him. I want to see it.” 

Shiro swivels his head in time to see his other self still, his hands stroking up and down Keith’s back. 

Keith looks floppy in Shiro’s arms, blissed out and ascendant. His stomach and chest are shiny with come— he’s already released, it seems, but is still keen to keep getting fucked. And, of course, he’s already hard again. 

Shiro scrambles across the bed to reach the two of them. His hands lift and touch Keith’s back and Keith gives a low keen, blinking his eyes open to find Shiro’s. 

“You looked good getting fucked,” Keith says in greeting, smiling. He leans forward, whimpering until Shiro meets him halfway, kissing him. When he pulls back, he asks, “Are you going to fuck me, too, Shiro?” 

Shiro glances over at his other self. His other self lifts his eyebrows, his white hair sticking to his temples and forehead. His big hands cup Keith’s ass now, spreading him open for Shiro’s inspection. 

“Well?” his older self asks him. “Are we?”

“Yeah,” Shiro promises, leaning in to kiss Keith’s jaw and then his neck. “Yeah, baby. We’re going to take care of you.” 

“I guess I’ll just be over here, neglected,” the other Keith says, no venom in his words. He’s grinning, flushed and pleased and lying on his side, just watching the three of them. 

“I’m sure you can figure out something to do with yourself,” the older Shiro teases back. 

“Well,” Keith answers, eyes glittering as he sweeps his gaze over Shiro. “I can think of one or two things. But go ahead and have your fun.” 

The other Shiro laughs and then turns his eyes towards Shiro, eyebrows lifting this time in challenge. “Well?” 

He teases Shiro, spreading Keith’s cheeks for him, palming Keith’s ass and squeezing as he fucks into him. 

Shiro reaches out for the lube, forgotten in the disrupted sheets. He slicks himself up as best he can, trembling just from the thought of fucking into Keith while another version of his own cock’s already in there. 

“Fuck,” Keith whispers when he feels Shiro press up against his back, kissing the back of his neck. “ _Shiro._ ” 

“Thought about this, huh?” Shiro teases, kissing Keith’s cheek.

“Fuck. _Fuck,_ yes,” Keith gasps. 

The other Shiro squeezes Keith’s ass again and angles Keith for Shiro. Shiro grips his cock, squeezing it to keep from coming on the spot, and rubs his cockhead up against Keith’s stretched, pink rim. 

Keith groans, shuddering. “ _Fuck._ ” 

Then he shudders a second time and comes again with a low cry— just from the thought of getting fucked by the two of them, Shiro realizes. Shiro moans, shocked, and watches Keith rut against the other Shiro’s stomach, fucking himself down on the thick cock inside him. 

In the aftermath of it, Keith whines. 

“Shhh,” the other Shiro soothes, kissing his temple and nuzzling, his smile sweet. “Don’t worry, baby. He’s still going to fuck you. I promise.” 

“Shiro,” Keith whimpers. 

Holding his breath, Shiro pushes his cock against Keith and slowly presses inside him, just the tip of his cock slipping past his rim. The stretch must be obscene. Keith shakes, thighs trembling, his eyes clenched shut. 

It’s a blissful feeling, always, to fuck Keith. But now Shiro can feel another cock there— _his_ cock, already stretching Keith so wide. Shiro goes impossibly slow, pausing at every shift, whimper, or breath Keith takes. He can tell that Keith’s getting impatient, still squirmy and oversensitive after coming. 

But Shiro manages to get half his cock inside Keith before he has to pause, panting, already at risk of coming just from this. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Keith pants, hands gripping the other Shiro’s shoulders, his nails digging in hard enough to prick with claws and leave marks. The other Shiro seems pleased with it, though, his expression reverent as he watches Keith take them both. 

When Shiro is fully seated inside Keith alongside his other self, it’s almost too much. Everything is too tight, too stretched, too warm. He can tell his other self is barely holding himself, too. He knows that intense look of concentration, the flex of his hands on Keith’s ass, the tremble of his thighs. He’s holding himself back from coming, nearly overwhelmed just from Keith alone. 

They both stare at Keith like he’s everything because he _is_ everything. 

“So good, baby,” Shiro whispers. Keith keens.

“Yeah, baby,” the other Shiro answers, his tone similarly fucked-out and worshipful. “Look at how good you look.” 

Over the other Shiro’s shoulders, the other Keith appears, draping against his husband’s back, his smile playful and sweet. 

“Damn,” he says, kissing his husband’s cheek, eyes on his younger self. “I know you always say I look good, but I didn’t realize how right you were.” 

“Told you,” the other Shiro answers, looking both smug and thoroughly lovestruck. 

The older Keith hums happily and then reaches down to fist around his younger self’s cock, stroking him smoothly. Keith gives a low cry at the contact, squeezing around the dual cocks inside him. It makes Shiro gasp, ducking his head and biting Keith’s shoulder, licking over the spot once before nuzzling into his neck. 

He watches over Keith’s shoulder as the other Keith strokes him off, squeezing around his cockhead and milking him closer to another orgasm. 

Shiro and his other self can barely move, holding still as Keith adjusts. They let him set the pace. And Keith’s pace seems to be just the tiniest little rocks of his hips, barely able to coax them in deeper, and not daring to lift too high and risk one of them slipping out. Still, he seems content to grind down on their cocks, squeezing around them and rolling his hips in waves. 

He seeks the friction of his other self’s hand, fucking up into it and letting loose a string of gasping, shuddering moans. The older Keith looks pleased, his eyes sliding between the two Shiros, observing their reactions. 

Shiro watches his other self lean in to kiss Keith’s ear, nuzzling. 

Up close like this, Shiro can hear what his older self is telling Keith. He speaks in a low murmur, his mouth pressed up against Keith’s ear, his eyes on Shiro: “Do you see how he looks at you?”

Keith whimpers and tilts his head. It takes him a moment, but when he cracks his eye open, it’s to look back only at Shiro. Their eyes lock. 

The other Shiro continues, softly, “You’re his entire world. He loves you so much he can’t even say how much… it overwhelms him constantly. When he goes quiet around you? That’s why.” 

Shiro blushes— not because the words are true or that they reveal something about Shiro, but because Keith’s reaction is for his eyelids to flutter shut, his lips to part, panting. He’s that affected by the idea of Shiro loving him back. 

And, fuck, of course he does. There’s no one in the entire universe that Shiro loves more than Keith. Maybe he’s not so good at saying it yet— maybe it’s still too scary, too overwhelming to imagine fucking it all up. But fuck, he loves Keith so much.

The older Keith’s hand stills around Keith’s cock, giving him time to breathe.

Shiro’s leaning towards Keith before he’s even fully aware he’s doing it. “Keith—” 

Keith lurches back, twisting and hooking one arm around Shiro’s neck, dragging him in and kissing him hard and bruising. 

“I love you,” Keith whispers, with feeling, once they draw back again.

Shiro knows his expression is moony— exactly what his older self was describing— and he doesn’t even care. He knows what his expression must look like now, because he can see it mirrored on his older self’s face. 

“Yeah, Keith,” Shiro whispers. “I love you, too. I love you so much.” 

It’s maybe a heavy thing to say so early in a relationship— he and Keith have only started dating, but it isn’t the first time they’ve said it. And, anyway, what are three words compared to how cosmically he knows Keith? His soul knows Keith. They were meant to meet. Shiro believes that beyond a shadow of a doubt. 

“That look,” the other Shiro whispers in Keith’s ear. “That means he’s thinking about how he wants to be with you forever.”

Keith trembles, his eyes widening, and the punched-out sound he makes is near breathless. 

The older Keith tilts his head down, eyes locking with Shiro’s. “And that sound means that’s all he wants, too.” 

“I know,” Shiro croaks, already reaching for Keith. “I don’t need either of you to tell me that.” 

His older self just chuckles. The older Keith hums, amused, and drapes against his husband’s back, nuzzling into his neck as he watches Shiro and Keith kiss. 

“Hard to imagine we were ever that young,” Shiro hears the older Keith tease. 

His older self hums in response and says, quietly, “We still look like that.” 

And, really, they do— when Keith and Shiro draw away from their kiss and glance at their older selves, they watch the way the older Shiro tips forward to press his forehead against the older Keith’s.

Their expressions are unbearably sweet, open and vulnerable and unrestrained. Shiro isn’t used to his own expression being so unbidden, but he’s not surprised that Keith would draw it out of him. And Keith, in turn, looks so at peace— no anger, no fight, nothing of the pain he still carries so deep inside himself. 

They’re happy. Genuinely. 

“Oh,” Shiro whispers before he can bite the sound back. 

But their older selves don’t respond to either of them, too lost in one another. Shiro watches as their eyes fall shut and, smiling, they lean into each other— the kiss unbearably soft, almost innocent considering the circumstances around them. 

The other Keith cups his husband’s face, thumb swiping along the edge of the scar cutting across his face, and that, too, is gentle. 

Watching them, Shiro feels a strange peace settle over him— that’ll be them, someday. That’ll be him and Keith. Together, alive, and unspeakably happy. 

“Well,” the older Keith says once he finally draws away and looks at them again, his eyes sparkling. “What do you say, Keith? Want to be fucked?” 

“Obviously,” Keith gasps. 

“I’ll let our boys take care of you and then I can finish you off.” And to punctuate the promise, the other Keith pats Shiro right on his ass, spurring him onward. “Come on. I want to see how good you wreck him.” 

The other Shiro laughs and then fucks his hips up, pressing deep inside Keith. Keith gives a lone cry and, encouraged, Shiro follows— and together he and his older self rock inside Keith. Their movements are shallow and slow, but Keith’s already panting and shivvering, his stomach a mess of come from his earlier releases. Shiro wraps his arms tight around his chest, holding him up as he fucks into him. 

“You’re so good baby,” Shiro whispers against the shell of his ear. “You feel so good— you’re _perfect._ I love you.” 

That seems to make Keith cry out louder, unrestrained. 

It’s his older self who comes first between the three of them. He groans as he’s fucking into Keith and Shiro watches the other Keith’s knowing smile, his hand doing something behind Shiro— fingering him, most likely, or otherwise teasing him. 

Shiro feels his older self come inside Keith, rocking up and stilling, his cock giving a pulse and then flooding Keith with warmth. Both Shiro and Keith groan at the sensation of it. And Shiro’s not far behind. He manages only a few more shallow thrusts, grinding inside Keith, feeling the pulses of his other self’s cock. 

He comes inside Keith, burying his face against his neck with a low groan. Keith whimpers, boneless in his arms. 

Shiro blinks his eyes open in time to watch his older self lean in and kiss Keith sweetly, smoothing his hair away from his face.

“We have to pull out now, babe,” the older Shiro whispers, soothing and apologetic. “Just relax, okay?”

“Shiro,” Keith whines, but doesn’t protest as he’s manhandled, held up by strong, sure arms. Shiro slips out first and Keith whimpers, face scrunching up at the sensation. 

He cries out again when the other Shiro slips out, too, leaving him empty. He’s trembling when they lay him onto his back. His cock’s hard still, straining against his belly. The other Shiro keeps stroking Keith’s hair and Shiro reaches for Keith’s hands, lifting them up to kiss over his knuckles, his wrists, his palms. 

Keith breathes in and then back out again. “I’m too empty.” 

Shiro can’t help his little laugh. “Fuck. You’re insatiable.” 

Keith manages a grin, tired though it is, his eyes still sparkling with desire. He squeezes Shiro’s hands. Then he swivels his head around and finds his older self. “You said you’d fuck me, too.” 

The older Keith snorts, amused, and then crawls towards him, languid and sure. The older Keith purrs happily when his husband strokes a hand down his back and gathers up his hair for him, holding it back as he settles between his younger self’s legs. 

“I’m afraid I’m a bit of a step down after them,” the older Keith demurs, stroking his fingers down between Keith’s legs, playing with the mess leaking out of him. He pushes three fingers inside him easily, barely filling him. 

“Don’t care. Just fuck me.” 

That makes Shiro laugh. “Sounds like Keith.” 

“Truly,” the other Keith agrees, grinning as he withdraws his fingers and replaces them with his cock. He strokes into Keith’s body easily, setting a rolling pace.

Shiro can’t help but stare, watching the two Keiths as they fuck each other. The other Shiro plays with his husband’s hair and Shiro settles on his knees above Keith’s head, holding his hands up, leaving Keith stretched out and unhurried. He looks like a king stretched out on the sheets, getting exactly what he wants. 

Keith sighs out, arching, and squirming. “Fuck. Fuck, yes.” 

“They like it,” the older Keith whispers, teasing, clearly, as it’s loud enough for both Shiros to hear. His eyes are on Shiro, though, amusement clear. He fucks into Keith easily, languidly. “If your Shiro could get hard right now, he would.” 

“Maybe we can convince them to fuck each other next,” Keith answers and then grins, wickedly. 

Shiro sucks in a sharp breath, darting a glance over at his older self. His older self seems just as surprised by the statement, although it ripples away into amusement. The other Shiro leans down and presses a kiss to his husband’s shoulder. 

“Insatiable,” he whispers. 

Shiro knows himself. That’s not a no. 

He leans down and kisses Keith rather than answer. Keith hums, arching, and curling his tongue into his mouth. Shiro feels the power of the other Keith’s thrusts as he rocks Keith’s body. He cups Keith’s face, tipping his face up and sucking on his tongue. 

When he pulls back from the kiss, Shiro reaches out and touches Keith’s cock, stroking him off. Keith comes with a cry, body pulled taut and, undoubtedly, squeezing around the other Keith’s cock. Which is likely why the other Keith closes his eyes, groans, and then stills. He comes inside Keith. 

And when he pulls out, it leaves Keith sloppy, three loads of come leaking out of him and turning the sheets utterly filthy. Keith looks unbearably pleased with himself, though, heaving in deep breaths and lying out, head in Shiro’s lap. 

The other Shiro joins his husband, slipping his fingers through the mess between Keith’s thighs, playing with the come. Keith says nothing, just lets loose a tiny moan and spreads his legs wider. 

“Think we’ve worn them out?” the other Keith asks the other Shiro, in a stage whisper. He grins when he catches Shiro looking. He lifts his eyebrows, then licks his fingers clean of the come leaking from Keith. 

That makes Shiro groan, fingers tightening in Keith’s hair as he pets and cradles his head, letting it rest heavy in his lap. 

“I could go again,” Keith says, brazenly, because of course he does. 

The other Shiro snorts, looping his arm around his husband’s waist and tugging him back so they’re pressing chest to back. He nuzzles into his husband’s hair, and it’s casual and intimate and sweet. Shiro’s heart does another pathetic leap in his chest. 

“Thought you wanted to watch us fuck next?” the older Shiro teases, patting Keith’s trembling thigh. 

Keith considers that, looking up at Shiro. Then he shrugs. “Wouldn’t mind seeing that, too.” 

Which is how Shiro finds himself on his hands and knees, ass up in the air as his older self fucks inside him— and it’s easy. Shiro feels the cock press against him and then slide in, sure and smooth. It’s a tight fit but it leaves Shiro shuddering. And fuck, his dick really is massive. Sure, Keith’s told him before, but it’s entirely different to feel it, even while he’s still slick and open from Keith’s earlier attentions. 

Shiro moans weakly as he feels the older Shiro fuck into him, his cock thick and pulsing. Shiro squeezes around the cock experimentally and hears that same groan mirrored above him. Shiro turns his head, seeking Keith’s eyes— and glowing under the approving, hungry gaze he sees there. 

Both Keiths watch, undisguised in their interest. 

It’s strange to think of Shiro being gentle _with _himself. In most existential cases, Shiro knows he can be rather self-punishing. And yet, his older self is careful as he strokes into him, taking his time— almost as careful and sweet as he is with Keith. Shiro doesn’t know what to make of that.__

__“That’s it,” his older self soothes, running a big hand down Shiro’s back. “You’re doing good.”_ _

__It makes Shiro flush, knowing that apparently praise works on him even when coming from another version of himself. He shudders and then wriggles his hips back. He reaches down weakly to touch himself._ _

__But the older Keith slaps his hand away and does that for him. The older Keith stretches out on his side beside Shiro, just resting and enjoying the show— and now stroking Shiro off._ _

__Shiro feels a pair of hands cup his cheeks and lift his head. When he looks up, Keith’s kneeling in front of him, his cock half-hard again. Keith doesn’t even need to ask before Shiro leans forward, taking the cock in his mouth and sucking him to hardness. Keith’s cock is always a pleasant weight on his tongue. He loves sucking on Keith, loves coaxing out those breathless little moans. He loves how it feels when Keith comes down his throat._ _

__Behind him, the older Shiro grunts and orgasms inside him, filling him alongside the other Keith’s come. Shiro collapses onto the bed, releases Keith from his mouth, and sighs blissfully._ _

__After this, Shiro knows he won’t be able to get hard again. He lies there, stretched out beside his Keith. He watches absently as their older selves stand from the bed and retreat to the bathroom, fetching supplies to clean them up. Even the scratch of a washcloth feels like too much, but the older Keith is gentle as he cleans Shiro._ _

__Shiro turns his head, watching his older self take care of Keith in turn, cupping Keith’s cheek and pressing kisses against his face as he wipes him down. It makes Shiro whimper until the other Keith leans down to do the same, licking and biting over his neck._ _

__“Well,” the other Keith announces once they’ve finished and dressed their younger selves in the softest, loosest pairs of pajama pants they could find. He leans back against his husband, grinning and triumphant. “Happy future anniversary to you both.”_ _

__That makes Shiro blush. “Um. You too. Er, happy honeymoon?”_ _

__“Thanks,” the other Keith says, glowing. He turns to look up at his Shiro, his eyes soft. “Pretty good present, I think.”_ _

__“Definitely,” his Shiro agrees._ _

__“So, how does this work?” Keith asks, lounging beside Shiro. “Do we get our memories wiped now or what?”_ _

__The other Keith hums thoughtfully and shrugs. “If you want to think it’s a dream, you’ll wake up tomorrow thinking this was a dream. Or if you want to remember, you’ll remember. We’re not too worried about it.”_ _

__“Space magic,” Shiro mumbles, sleepily. He’s learned long ago to just accept the strange things that happen in his life— and getting fucked by his future boyfriend-turned-husband and his future self seems like one of those times._ _

__It feels too abrupt to just say goodbye to them, though, and Shiro wonders what the protocol is for asking future versions of yourself and your boyfriend to spend the night and maybe go for a few more rounds once they’ve all recovered._ _

__But it seems the moment’s passed. The other Keith leans down and presses one last kiss first to Shiro’s lips and then Keith’s, his smile gentle when he pulls back._ _

__“Take care of each other,” he says._ _

__The other Shiro leans down and kisses Keith, too, slow and lingering. He’s much more succinct with Shiro, kissing him in a quick peck and then, more intimately, brushing his white hair back from his face, his fingers lingering at the spot where it fades back into the black buzz of his undercut._ _

__“You’re not alone,” he tells Shiro, expression serious. “No matter what.”_ _

__Shiro nods, although his heart squeezes a little— wondering what, exactly, must happen in the future to prompt that sort of parting._ _

__“See you soon,” the older Keith says with that dagger-quick smile._ _

__Shiro and Keith watch the wormhole open again and, once again, Shiro steps through first and reaches back, offering his hand to his husband. The two of them disappear with one last wink of the wormhole, leaving the present day Shiro and Keith alone in Shiro’s room once more._ _

__Silence follows their departure. Shiro isn’t sure what to do or say and settles for silence. Beside him, Keith sighs, swings his leg over Shiro’s hips, and presses up against him, cuddling into his side. He nuzzles at Shiro’s shoulder._ _

__Shiro curls his arms around him and pulls him onto top of him completely. They’re both sore from all the events and Shiro’s definitely too fucked-out to get hard again, but it’s still nice to feel Keith’s comforting weight against his body._ _

__“Hey,” Shiro says to Keith, voice scratchy and soft. “I love you.”_ _

__Keith seems to glow under the words. He nods his head and then kisses Shiro. “I love you, too.” And then, shyly, he whispers, “Guess we love each other for a long time.”_ _

__“Guess we do,” Shiro agrees, quietly, and hopes that when he wakes in the morning that he’ll remember all of this, that it won’t be a dream._ _

__Keith presses his forehead down against Shiro’s, gazing into his eyes, his smile tentative and so, so sweet._ _

__“Guess we get married,” he murmurs, brushing his nose to Shiro’s._ _

__A little thrill zips down Shiro’s spine. He nods his head, just barely, not enough to dislodge where they’re connected. He leans up to ghost his lips against Keith’s._ _

__“I can’t wait.”_ _

__Keith laughs, quiet and serene, and then leans in to kiss Shiro properly. “Yeah. Me neither.”_ _

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject) (including the [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/commentbuilder)), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates responses, including:
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